#serious trigger warning

[l-747]

4:AM im on an ODISSEY ! ! ! ! ! !

[simmyfrobby]

― from War is Kind ["Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind”], Stephen Crane

Hockey Poetry Post 53/?

(Photo credit: Tony Gutierrez, link, link, Smiley N. Pool, link, Steph Chambers, Jennifer Buchanan, Ashley Potts, Steph Chambers, Steph Chambers, Ashley Potts, Dean Rutz, Stephen Brashear, Matthew J. Lee, link, Bob DeChiara, Maddie Meyer, link, Sam Navarr, Wilfredo Lee, Sam Navarro, John Locher, Patrick Smith, Ellen Schmidt, link, John Locher, link)

[slayerkitty]

What Happened to Non?

All right. We've all been talking about what happened to Non since the show started - in a "something bad obviously happened, they obviously did something to him, not sure if they killed him but..." way.

I've been doing something thinking during my re-watching with @shannankle about what this group of antagonistic idiots did to Non (regardless of intention) and I has a clown theory. *puts on clown hat and starts smearing on the make-up*

One of the things that @shannankle and I did for fun was actually go back and watch the pilot trailer for DFF, just to see if they kept any of it or similar scenes in the show. As is typical for pilot trailers, almost none of it has translated over to the actual show, other than they share a similar vibe and the relationships (PheeJin and TeeWhite). But what I found interesting is what happened to Non in the pilot trailer.

Trigger Warning: Character is tied up/kidnapped/forcibly stripped

These absolute douche nozzles stripped Non to his boxers, tied him up, and left him (possibly unconscious) on a rooftop. Now, I'm not a doctor, and I have limited knowledge on the health risks of this, but I would say IT'S PROBABLY NOT GOOD. Dehydration, sunburn, heat stroke, etc. Also, I'm sure it would be demeaning and humiliating to Non.

Now, do I think that's what they did to Non in the show? No.

Do I think they might do something similar? Yes.

Will they take Non out to the woods, strip him and tie him up? No.

But will they drug him, make him think he's being chased by the killer from their movie, and then attacked by the killer and then leave him alone out in the woods while tripping? Yeah, I think they might.

When the show first starts, the opening scene is Jin and Non running out the side door and into the woods. They're terrified. Jin pulls on Non several times to direct him toward the shrine in the woods and then abandons Non at the shrine to run off. Non is then "attacked" the killer, and blood splatters in his face.

Why do I think they drugged Non? Because in episode 2, in the closet when White finds the antenna and the knife, he also finds an empty vial. It looks prescription and like it's maybe been there for a while (three years, possibly?).

What a great prank it would be, wouldn't it, to convince Non that they're actually being stalked by the killer Non created for their script. Drug his drink, Tee slips on the costume, everyone freaks out and Jin leads Non into the woods before running off. Harmless right?

Except that none of them ever saw Non again. He disappeared. They don't know if he's alive, or if what they did contributed to his death somehow.

I don't know if the show is going to have Non live or not. I can see both options as viable. But there is no doubt in my mind that they drugged and tortured Non with his own creation under the guise that it was all a prank.

(gif by @ging-ler)

[leneisdown]

Hey let's spread some awareness for Domestic Violence here💜

Did you know on average 1 in 4 adult women and 1 in 7 adult men are victims of DV?

Did you know on average 20 people every MINUTE fall victim to an act of DV?

Did you know a common risk factor is family history? Someone who grew up in abusive situations may be more likely to become an abuser themselves or fall victim to an abusive relationship.

Did you know the estimate of children in the US exposed to domestic violence each year averages between 3.3 million and 10 million?

Did you know a yearly average 55% of homicides are related to DV situations?

Hotlines for help

Call- 800-799-7233

Text- 88788 (text "begin" for non-verbal situations)

[goddessofroyalty]

The fic this belongs from will likely never see the light of day because it's a "write until it's out of my head not finished" thing but wanted to share these paras because I like the image.

Pairings: Zoro/Sanji

Tags: omegaverse, past-mpreg

-----------

Even with the girl sleeping in Zoro's lap - the thin limbs of childhood dangling limply as her head rests against the swordsman's chest, green hair a curtain over her curled brows softened by sleep. One of Zoro's arms is wrapped snugly around her waist to keep her secure, but other than that he seems barely aware of her as he listens in to the two captain's conversation. Fatherhood an easy burden for him. Although Law supposes he would have had plenty of practice with Strawhat as his captain.

As if he can read Law's thoughts and plans to prove him right Strawhat leans back on his chair. Stretching his upper body towards the gallery.

"Sanji! I'm hungry!"

"You're always hungry!" Zoro says, reaching out with the arm not holding his daughter to tug at the captain's shoulders. The girl's sleep undisturbed by her father's movement. That tired after a day of running around with the Strawhat crew.

[fleshymeatbag]

Daily remeinder!: Nonas hair is super fucking long because ianthe manipulated harrows hair folicals durring her lobotomy 🤭🤗

[blooeyedtroll]

[generic-sonic-fan]

I Can't Take All This

Summary: A corollary to “I Can’t Accept All This”. 

Metal Sonic finds itself buried under the rubble with Sonic, and is forced to contemplate the most extreme execution of its prime core directive.

(Or: what if it was Metal Sonic buried alive with Sonic instead of Omega?)

Word Count: 1677

(Inspired by the lovely @ramblingsofasandvich!)

Metal Sonic’s processor could not even begin to chart a path of egress before the rubble fell. 

Catching the falling debris with its arms joints locked above its vital processor was a decision made in the next three frames of its continued existence. It flexed its elbow joints to prevent them from snapping. Its legs sheared off at the knee joint instead. Now its foot and calf plating lay in front of it, tactile sensors refusing to reconnect no matter how many times it urged them to. 

Its every other sensor was tuned to escape options. It did not need to devote precious processing power to the calculations to know that its frame would only withstand another half an hour bearing this weight, and that was a generous estimate. It probed the wreckage above and to every side for weaknesses or natural cavities in the collapse formation. It found none; at least, none accessible, even if its turbine could achieve maximum spin-up and airflow in these conditions. 

And it registered, upon turning its scanners to the floor, that Sonic the hedgehog lay only five feet southwest of its position. Heart rate, elevated; breathing, erratic; alive. 

The only barrier separating them was a metal panel. This panel was not load-bearing and only a quarter of an inch thick. Easily pierceable. Metal Sonic ran simulations of the various tearing motions with its claws that could achieve a breach. All of which, though, required releasing its hold on the ceiling. It could not flee to Sonic’s cavity for shelter should it pursue that course of action, as his cavity was not a natural result of the debris formation, but rather-

But rather-

Metal Sonic flinched its head forward as its operating system was whipped with a reprimand for its direct disobedience of its prime core directive. Its arms shook. This motion translated into the greater debris, knocking particles loose from the ceiling. One large particulate landed on Sonic’s head, rousing him from an unconscious state. 

“Hello? Help? HELP!”

The organic hedgehog rose from his prone position. A surge of tactical protocols flooded Metal Sonic’s already overwhelmed processor. It calculated, in two-point-three seconds, every possible angle of attack Sonic could utilize should he choose to tear through the thin metal plating, and it concluded that it would have no defense. This would lead to near-complete chassis loss and require extensive repairs from Dr. Ivo Robotnik to remedy. 

. . . or it could release its hold on the ceiling. 

“Is anyone there? I’m here! Help!” Sonic screamed. 

Sonic would be crushed in an instant. His skull would cave, his ribs would snap, and his viscera would be squeezed into whatever miniscule gaps remained. Metal Sonic had run similar simulations thousands of times before. The outcome was certain.

Similarly, though, its own frame would be not just lost, but obliterated; titanium torn, copper and hydraulic fluid spilled into open air, every last trace of its code arcing down the nearest conductive surface to be lost to the ground below. “Repair” was not a concept that existed after this outcome. Neither was “restoration”. The closest was “rebuild”, and that was if Dr. Ivo Robotnik could even find enough salvage to make the operation worthwhile. 

This was no mere processor wipe. This was complete annihilation.

“Come on, come on, Sonic! Calm down! Think! I have to find a way out of here.”

Metal Sonic was once more whipped with punishment from its prime core directive for allowing itself to disassociate in the presence of its enemy. Its frame shook. Something snapped in its left shoulder joint, causing its arm to slam into the pit of the socket. The resulting vibrations in the ceiling structure caused Sonic to whimper, a unique sound that Metal Sonic saved to its memory banks for later analysis before it could stop itself. There should be no future analysis. It should fulfill its prime core directive.

Another, secondary core directive surfaced in its processor, whispering something about self-preservation. Metal Sonic seized this directive and brought it alongside its prime core directive. Combat circumstances allowed for the secondary core directive to be violated if this meant fulfilling the prime. But these were not combat circumstances, it reasoned to itself. Sonic was trapped and incapacitated. These were not combat circumstances, so therefore it must consider both directives. 

The rationale was weak, but enough to allow it to forgo an immediate decision while its subroutines detangled the paradox. 

“Okay, let’s try this. . .”

Sonic was pawing at a wall of loose debris. This debris, though not load-bearing, held back a wall of gravel-sized pieces. The gravel supported other concrete chunks throughout the structure above, the shifting of which could impact the load Metal Sonic was bearing. Sonic was digging, and fast- it did not have time to calculate whether the impact of the shifting gravel would be negative or beneficial. 

It tested its vocalizer and released a negative ping. 

Sonic ceased his movements. “Hello?”

After a few seconds, Sonic continued. Metal Sonic released another negative ping. 

“No, wait, I know that sound. I know that sound. Who- Metal?”

Sonic knew it was here.

“You’re trapped here too?”

Sonic could easily tear through the metal plating separating them. 

“Metal, if you’re in here, gimme another ping.” 

Sonic would destroy it. The ceiling would collapse. They would both be obliterated.

“I’ll- I’ll get us out of here. Don’t worry about it.” Sonic panted. “Don’t worry. We’re okay. I’m okay. Are you okay?”

His voice diminished the longer he spoke, and his heart rate spiked. His breaths became shallow gasps. It matched an emotional state Metal Sonic had witnessed from Amy Rose when it had first captured her. The colloquial term was a “panic attack”. 

It was. . . remarkable, to register such a drastic fear response from Sonic. 

This observation was interrupted by a snap in its right shoulder joint. Its other arm was forced deep into the pit of its socket, now uniform with its left. The consequent shaking dropped a watermelon-sized rock onto Sonic’s lap. The impact did not break any bones, but it would leave him severely bruised, and caused him to begin openly sobbing. This was another unique sound that Metal Sonic recorded to its memory banks. 

It would not have much longer to record things to its memory banks. With both of its shoulder joints having failed, its arms now impaled into the walls of its center chest turbine. The load would force these walls to fail in fifteen minutes, and with that, send the debris tumbling down atop its processor. 

Why did it delay the inevitable?

Self preservation, its secondary core directive whispered. But what difference did fifteen minutes make?

Metal Sonic let go.

At least, its processor sent the command to its actuators to release, only to find both its left and right shoulder joints inoperable. 

If it was programmed to laugh, perhaps it would have. 

It began calculating methods to wiggle its arms out of their sockets, before abandoning this pursuit. What difference did fifteen, now fourteen, minutes make? Sonic was going to die. Its purpose was going to be fulfilled. It no longer needed to strain its processing capabilities towards this end. It no longer needed to exert its physical form or make determinations about the limits of its chassis. Its purpose was complete. Its existence was now unnecessary.

It should find itself finally able to rest, with this conclusion. 

. . . it should not be scrambling to find any other solution. 

Metal Sonic scanned every inch of the ceiling above for points of weakness and found none. It scanned the walls around it for natural cavities to flee to, and found none. It scanned, and scanned, and scanned, and found only the same unforgiving concrete and the same panicking hedgehog. It reviewed all of the lines of rationale its short-term adaptive processing had generated since the collapse, analyzing each bit of logic for any hidden clues or missed solutions, only to be led to the same conclusion. 

Suddenly, there was a massive shift in the rubble above, and the load Metal Sonic was supporting decreased. Another vibration swept through the space around it. Then another. Then another. 

The ceiling was lifted off of its hands, revealing Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s Eggmobile hovering above. He released the chunk from the claw of his crane before lowering the glass dome surrounding him with the press of a button.

“Well, well, my finest creation! You certainly have a habit of wanton destruction in your attempts to destroy Sonic. Still wasn’t expecting you to bring the roof down on top of yourself though. I’ll see if I can tweak that habit during your next-” 

Metal Sonic flicked its cameras in the direction of Sonic in an attempt to warn its creator of what he’d just done, but it was already too late- Sonic jumped to his feet, scrambled up the debris, and disappeared beneath the open sky before Dr. Ivo Robotnik had uttered his last syllable. The man ducked beneath the walls of the cockpit as the shockwave rocked his vehicle.

When the Eggmobile steadied, he peeked his eyes over the side. “Huh. You didn’t tell me you managed to trap the rodent down there with you!”

Metal Sonic had not engaged in any communication with the outside world after the collapse- the layers of concrete had blocked any signal but the strongest, most bare of distress pings.

Distress pings. Metal Sonic checked its communication feed and found that it had given off the signal automatically the moment the roof had collapsed. If it had disabled this ping, its creator would not have stumbled upon it, and Sonic would finally be dead.

“Eh, that’s alright. There’s always next time.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik shrugged as he returned to his controls.

He lowered the crane claw and grabbed Metal Sonic’s frame. Upon safe retrieval, protocol was to enter standby mode to limit processor activity. Metal Sonic allowed this mode to dampen its awareness as it was hoisted into the cabin of the Eggmobile.

It could analyze its utter failure later. 

[amateur-scribbler]

I want to scream until my throat bleeds, a soul crushing scream that would scare birds from their trees.

That scream will echo with all the numbing pain I feel, whenever I think of how I lost the light in my eyes on the night I learnt what any man could so easily steal.

He knows every sickening moment of that night, he heard every one of my hiccuped cries, and with every painfully slow second, I realised it wasn’t just his hands that gripped my throat tight.

My tears melded with the mantra of pleads for it to stop, the choked words were met by deaf ears and my deep fear; a reception that made my heart drop.

The cold hands kept grabbing at the skin he’d decided he was owed, to these cries his conscience was immune, the entitlement to every curve etched in his frenzied eyes showed.

The sounds of the ocean were so close, she called to me, her pained cries crashed onto the shores that were strewn with stone.

I lost myself in the shell my body became, not my own and certainly not something I could bring myself to call home.

His hands and lips had taken their claim, but here I am, in these bones racked with rotting shame, I remain.

He left no trail of blackened bruises or deep scratches in my skin but, I see it so clearly, scars etched in my every fibre; his hands have left a trail of welting burns and this pain will continue to burn like an all consuming wildfire.

Years have passed but those hands, so calloused and cruel, gave life to a twisted dark bitterness that, with time, only grew.

His hands aren’t yours yet your touch will make my skin crawl, please know it’s because I carry his sins entrenched in my every limb; the pain whispers “this body is not yours, not anymore”.

This shame washes over me, it’s a layer of grime I’ll never clean, caked like dried mud that only I will ever see.

I’m the a type of monster Frankenstein didn’t mean to create, and I hope my cries follow him leaving him entrenched in guilt until he lies lonely in his grave.

I hope when he cleanses his skin, the water is tied to my tears and makes him remember that I’ll haunt him until he scratches out his eyes to stop the memories of every woman he ever made feel this sacred kind of fear.

how the ocean finds her sirens - t.k.o

[simmyfrobby]

― Regarding the Pain of Others, Susan Sontag.  

[ssreeder]

Chapters: 15/? Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), others to be tagged later - Relationship Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Toph Beifong, Jet (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Kyoshi Warriors (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar), Jee (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Bato (Avatar), A bunch of OCs, Long Feng, Joo Dee (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Mai (Avatar), Ty Lee (Avatar), Ozai (Avatar), General Fong (Avatar) Additional Tags: Violence, Blood and Injury, War, Minor Character Death, Rape/Non-con Elements, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Major Character Injury, Amputation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, possible major character death, themes similar to the first two books, Sexism, Racism (like has already been written in first two books), dark themes, Human Trafficking, Slavery, Just a lot of dark war-like themes, there will be a battle, Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Injury Recovery, Healing, Underage Sex, Underage Drinking, Animal Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warnings each chapter, Hopefully some healing for Zuko finally, no promises, but that’s the goal, Reunions, hopefully a happy ending, Sokka gets some healing too, Non-Consensual Drug Use Series: Part 3 of Leaving It All Behind Summary:

-This is the last book of the series LIAB, please go read the other two books before this, or you will be very confused-

Zuko has been taken by the Earth Kingdom army to who-knows-where, and Sokka is determined to get him back.

But he can’t do it alone.

With Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors by his side, Sokka is headed to Ba Sing Se to find Katara and Aang so they can go rescue his fire bender.

Things aren’t as easy as he had hoped. Corruption, lies, and unknown horrors await them inside the city’s walls. None of this is helping Sokka’s mental well-being.

Hakoda and his men face a problem of their own as Azula approaches with the intentions of making it rain fire.

Sokka and Zuko will both find themselves having to reintegrate back into a life they thought they left behind, with people they hardly remember. It isn’t easy for anyone, especially when they don’t recognize the person standing in front of them.

[the-l00ker]

serious

After seeing alot of things on twitter about Lovejoy coming back, blah blah blah etc... Etc...

What's come to my attention is that what Wilbur soot has done (NOT JUST TO SHELBY BUT OTHER ALSO) has messed up the sense of what consent actually is.

It's sounds simple. Saying yes or no. But things and topics like this aren't linear.

You should not, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, let a celebrity lead your way of life and/or manipulate what you believe to be right and wrong.

You do not have to "pick sides" you do not have to defend a (probably) millionaire because they've fucked up, and you certainly should not change your outlook on life because of what a celebrity has done or said and because you still want to be fans of them.

First things first

Consent can be both given, and taken WHENEVER.

Not no "but they said yes before" or anything like that. You can say no afterwards. No discussions. It shouldn't be an argument or a heated debate for you to say no.

If you don't like a certain type of food, are you gonna force yourself or get your partner to force you to eat it? No.

If you don't like something, should you force yourself to like it just because you said yes 20 minutes ago? No.

You can say no. Whenever.

I don't care, if you're male, female, non-binary or anywhere else on the gender spectrum, YOU CAN SAY NO.

Second.

You can communicate that you didn't like something, even after it happen.

No questions asked.

If you didn't like it, and you came to that realisation after, it shouldn't take a fucking rocket scientist to be like "Hey my S.O, I didn't like this. Can you not do it again?"

Communication in a relationship is important. Extremely important. And it shouldn't be taken lightly.

If you don't like a restaurant after eating there, then you shouldn't have to go back, right? You can say no to going again.

This may seem small and probably meaningless, but imagine taking this scenario and applying it to something you love, something you do, something that you want to do.

Is it fair that you should tolerate something you dislike because of another person needs/wants? Absolutely not.

It doesn't matter if they say please with 50,000 cherries ontop, with a "but my friend said" or a "but X let me do it all the time".

No, believe it or not, means fucking no.

Third.

If someone repeats a behavioural pattern over the course of multiple months/years inwhich that you've know them, and it hurts you or you dislike like it, and they KEEP DOING IT even after you asked them not too, then they're not worth it.

You do not have to tolerate someone else's pity-party, designed to guilt you into staying because of "reasons"

"they're getting better"

"they're getting help and all the things they need"

"they didn't mean it"

"I'm used to it"

"they didn't mean to hurt me"

"I promise they're getting support"

Yeah and how about you?

Your own mental health, emotional health and physical health should not come at the expense of others.

It may seem selfish to some, I do agree, but do not set yourself back for others to move forwards.

Sometimes it's better to be alone.

Partners should love and support each other and if they do shit like this then that isn't support. That's a 80-20 % relationship and it's not right.

I can really only comment on the Wilbur Soot drama because I'm a fan of mcyt people. But what he's done, justified or not, has genuinely messed with 16yr-20yr+ old sense of reality and what they believe consent is.

It's shocking. Please. Please. Please. Do not let a celebrity drama change anything in your life that you hold dear to you or that benefits you.

[supersecretnerd]

Ah I just realized I never posted the Official Chibis for Mike Tyson's Punch Out characters on here for the fandom. So uh- here I go.

Ok so these Chibis come from the Japanese 1987 player guidebook for the Famicom version of Mike Tyson's Punch Out-

This post has more relatively less problematic Chibis- I will post the more problematic ones on a later separate post underneath a readmore-

[heretherebedork]

I am maybe twenty minutes from saying goodbye to my mom because we went from working on PT to infection to pneumonia overnight and I rushed out at 6:30 am and I don't know what to think so I keep thinking about the shows I'm gonna watch today and I just wanna say how much I love everyone of you reading this and please don't make this my most popular post just go read all my La Pluie meta and love that part of my life.

Anyway.

Love people. Don't stop loving them. See them when you can and love them.

[leaderlamby]

TW: Cults

So we really need to talk about the word "cult" and how people use it.

Cults are real and they are serious, horrific, disgusting- nothing to use lightly.

Unfortunately, the word and concept is becoming so normalised and something quirky and fun, and I didn't understand the severity until I've had friends, who have been victims to real cults, tell me how bad it is.

I hate seeing kids online be like "haha let's make a cult for this character I like" - that is not cute or funny. Just say you like the character and go. There is literally nothing wrong with just doing that.

I've had to change some things about myself and this blog since finding out cults are not something to use lightly. What I have/had is more like an unorganised religion, so that's what I'm calling it now.

I highly suggest people stop using the word and watering it down to just- "group of people with common interest".

Research cults and how horrible they actually are. Find some victims' perspectives on it and take it to heart. Stop acting like it's a completely normal thing to joke about.

Keep in mind, there's nothing wrong with enjoying games like Cult of the Lamb, or with being from it, like me. So long as you don't support the actions irl and you add trigger warnings when talking to it.

I take issues like this extremely seriously and I really wish everyone else did as well.